Staying
by cwby30
Summary: Post-Canon, Dead!Jack, Move-On!Ennis. After the ranch folds, Ennis feels Jack's pull, and drives up to Lightning Flat, intending to visit the Twist Ranch and Jack's grave on his way to his married daughter's house. Instead, he stays.
1. Chapter 1

**Part 1**

October, 1988

Ennis handed the keys to the new owner's agent, stepped into his truck, and bade farewell to his home of the past four years. Hard to believe, four years at one place, acknowledged as second only to the foreman, five years since…

A gust of wind caught the horsetrailer and brought him back to the business at hand, navigating the highway to a place to stay until he could land another job. No time to dream of Jack, not yet, anyway, tonight would come soon enough.

Still, his mind wasn't on the road, and before he realized it, he had missed the turn towards his married daughter's house and was still headed north and east. Only one destination in that direction, a time-worn home on a time-worn ranch in the middle of nowhere. But Jack's presence felt stronger there, maybe so strong that Jack pulled Ennis back to the place Jack couldn't get away from fast enough yet had ended up in for all earthly eternity. Ennis didn't change direction. Almost felt like Jack traveled with him, elbow resting on the door frame of the open window, black Resistol tilted back on his head, hair blowing in the wind, smile on his face.

As he turned at the mailbox announcing "John C. Twist", Ennis thought that the place looked even more meager than before. All pretense of holding its own had melted away, replaced by a sullen awareness that, in time, this too would become another abandoned windowless box surrounded by leaning buildings and fallow land.

Pulling up to the side of the house, he left room for the car parked in front to angle out. For some reason, he didn't go to the kitchen door this time, like all the other times. Instead he walked over to the front door. Voices floated out on the mid-afternoon air through the open door, blown around like the leaves from the elm trees sheltering the house on the West.

"Nope, no thanks, Hal, we'll do just fine," came a voice that Ennis recognized as Mr. Twist's, but with an unfamiliar edge of sadness.

"But Johnny…" That must be Hal.

"No buts, Hal, her mind's made up and so's mine. This's been our home for over 50 years, and we ain't leavin' now."

"You're sure? Millie and me, we have plenty of room, close to a hospital, good doctors."

"I know, I know, we've been all through that, she would have better care, family around, people to talk to, not so damn lonely…" A deep sigh. "But no, this is where we'll stay; we'll make the best of it."

"Well, okay, if you're sure that's what you want."

"We're sure. Now you best be gettin' along, don't want Millie to be frettin' 'cause you're late."

The screen door opened out, and two men stepped onto the porch. Ennis recognized Mr. Twist, but didn't know the other one. They stopped when they saw Ennis standing at the foot of the three porch steps.

"Oh, it's you," said Mr. Twist, with a flat, though not unfriendly, voice.

"Mr. Twist," replied Ennis.

"Didn't expect to see you."

"Didn't expect to be here, but… well…"

Mr. Twist turned to the man next to him. "Hal, this is Ennis Del Mar, he was a… was Jack's best friend. Ennis, this here's Jack's Uncle, Harold Sullivan, Elaine's older brother."

"Howdya do, sir," said Ennis, holding out his hand.

"Fine, fine, nice to meetcha," replied Uncle Hal, gripping the outstretched hand firmly. "Call me Hal, everybody does, Jack did."

"Yeah, I remember."

"You do? From where?"

"Summer we were 19, back in '63, herded sheep all summer together, Mrs. Twist sent word that you were sick in the hospital, weren't expected to make it, then got better."

"Oh yeah, that was a long time ago, auto accident; some drunk driver blew a stop sign and plowed right into me, still got some reminders from that, especially when it rains." He smiled and turned to Mr. Twist. "Remember what I said, and call me and Millie if you need anything, anything at all, right?"

Mr. Twist gave him a tolerant smile. "First on the list."

"Okay, then. We'll see you soon. Bye, Ennis, hope to see you again, too." And Uncle Hal got into his Mercury sedan and drove off in a cloud of dust that rose up after him, obscuring the sedan until it turned onto the paved road. Ennis' eyes followed him, wondering if Jack had watched that same scene from his bedroom window as a boy.

"Well, what brings you here?"

Ennis turned and faced Jack's father. "Came to pay my respects, say hello, and ask if it's okay to stop off at the cemetery for a few minutes." His voice faltered a bit. Forty-four years old and he still wavered in front of Jack's old man.

Mr. Twist considered Ennis, then nodded his head. "Sure 'nough, it's okay, like the other times." He paused. "Come on inside for a minute first."

Ennis followed him in, the screen door banging shut on yet another gust of wind. Mr. Twist turned to the right at the entrance to the dining room, and Ennis followed, only to stop dead in his tracks. The table and china cabinet and most of the chairs were gone, replaced by a hospital bed, hospital table on wheels swung over it, two end tables, one with a lamp, recliner on one side, dining room chair on the other. The sideboard held pill bottles, glasses, and dirty dishes, most of the pictures shunted to one side. In the bed lay Mrs. Twist, looking older and sadder than Ennis had ever seen her. Her eyes fell upon him, and she smiled, a crooked smile, using only the left side of her face. She raised a hand slightly from the bed, same side as her half-smile.

"What…?"

"Stroke, two months ago, came in for lunch and found her on the kitchen floor. Too far and too long for an ambulance, so I called the doctor, put her in the back seat of the stationwagon, and drove her in myself. Doctor says she'll get better in time, but she'll never be the same, maybe never talk… or walk."

Mr. Twist walked over and sat next to the bed on the remaining dining room chair, and gently took the fragile hand of his wife into his two time-worn rough hands. His thumb gently caressed the back of her hand, and she looked at him steadily.

"Hasn't said a word since that day. But I know what she wants. We're staying here until the end, both of us, too many memories, too many sorrows, too many reminders to leave behind. I'm the last of the Twists that'll ranch here, six generations including… Bobby doesn't want the place, said so in his last letter." His voice trailed off. "You and me, Honey, you and me," he whispered.

Ennis was taken aback. He had never heard anything from Jack or seen anything in his past visits that prepared him for this. So many questions filled his mind, some of them asked in Jack's voice. What had change that man, what had soured him on life so long ago that he would treat his only child as bad as he had, why did he hide this side of himself from Jack, from his wife?

"Don't spend much time outside these days, spend most of it right here, caring for Elaine. Sleep in the recliner, just in case. A home health care nurse comes by every day for three hours, helps a bit so I can get some chores done, but it's not enough time to do much. And she's cutting back to three days a week soon, seein' as how Elaine has stabilized…" Mrs. Twist made a sound. Mr. Twist stood up and gestured to Ennis. "Come on over and say hello, she's asking for you."

They traded places, and Ennis carefully covered the hand resting on the bed, the one that held his precious Jack as a boy and comforted him as a man. He put his head down on that hand and cried.

A gentle hand rested on Ennis' shoulder, and a voice called his name. He wanted to sleep some more, just a few minutes more, but the hand remained and the voice insisted. _Dammit, Jack, the sheep'll take care of themselves for another hour._

"Ennis?" The voice wouldn't go away, and the hand shook his shoulder.

"Ennis?"

"Yeah?" He looked up, confused, and then Mrs. Twist came into focus, smiling her half-smile at him, and it came back to him in a rush. But the hand remained on his shoulder, someone else's hand. _Jack?_ He turned to see Mr. Twist standing next to him.

"How long…?"

"About an hour. Happens to me, too, every now and then… less now than before, but still does." He looked at Ennis sympathetically. "The sun's moving along, it's lunchtime, thought maybe you'd like to let your horses out for a run, and then have a bite to eat with us."

Ennis agreed, kissed Mrs. Twist's hand, and strode outside. Twister and Sunshine waited patiently in the trailer, and greeted him with nickering. He whispered as he stroked their heads, and then led them to the corral next to the faded stables to join two other horses. They stretched their legs and whinnied at him as he leaned against the fence before turning their attention to the others. He gazed over the land and buildings, once again struck at their run-down state. Too much for one man in the first place, even more so now when his heart lay partially-paralyzed on a hospital bed inside the house.

Leaving the horses to their own devices, Ennis walked through the stables and the barn. Same inside as outside, the bones were good but needed lots of elbow grease to put them into proper shape. Equipment had seen better days, but most of the machinery looked only about ten years old or so. Brushing some dust off a nameplate, he read, "Newsome Farm Equipment, Childress, Texas." _Old man musta shit a brick when that arrived, eh, Jack?_ he chuckled. Seemed like he heard an echo in return, agreeing with him, their own little joke.

Back outside the barn he leaned against the corral, one leg up on the lower rung, and surveyed the house again. Roof needed patching, maybe not make it through the winter wind and rains, siding needed scraping and painting, one window upstairs had wood over what should have been a clear pane of glass, some of the rest needed caulking.

If nothing was done, the place would go under, slowly but surely, become just another abandoned house with raggedy old curtains blowing out of broken windows, and where would that leave Mrs. Twist? She needed care, loving care, to give her a chance at living for the rest of her life, and not just wasting away in a hospital bed. And Mr. Twist, well, Ennis didn't know what to think about him, but he needed the land and the land needed more care than he had the energy or time to give. Without help, they'd end up living with Hal and Millie, poor relations in the spare bedroom, swallowing their disappointment, anger, and sorrow until it swallowed them. He knew that feeling.

Just needed time, never enough of that, though, never enough time.

When he came in through the kitchen door, the house was silent, no light but what came through the windows. He walked towards Mrs. Twist's room, and stopped before entering. Mr. Twist again sat in the chair where Ennis had sat, holding Mrs. Twist's hand, himself asleep. Mrs. Twist caught his eye and gave what he interpreted to be a smile. He smiled back, and returned to the kitchen to make some lunch from whatever he could find.

When lunch was ready, Mrs. Twist had fallen asleep herself, so Ennis gently wakened Mr. Twist and they ate sandwiches, potato salad, and fruit in the kitchen, in relative silence. Afterwards, they sat on the front porch steps, hatless, smoking a cigarette. To the east Ennis could make out mountains, but in all other directions were rolling plains. Couldn't see the nearest neighbors. Jack was right. _Middle of nowhere, Ennis, all by ourselves._ Mr. Twist cleared his throat, dropped his cigarette on a step, and crushed it with the sole of his boot.

"You know, if you're not in a rush to get anywhere, you're welcome to stay the night, wouldn't mind the company, and Elaine would like it, too. You can use Jack's room, and you'll find plenty of space and feed in the stables for your horses." He folded his hands and rested his arms on his knees, bending forward a bit, not looking at Ennis. "Don't know why you would want to, though. I know I haven't been, um, particularly welcoming in the past, so if you decide not to, I'll understand."

Ennis just looked out over the land, not responding yet.

"Never could wrap my head around what Jack was… what you and… Jack… had between you. Didn't seem right, ran against what I'd been taught growing up. Took it out on him. Blamed him for everything wrong with the place and everything else."

Ennis stiffened, his heart rate increased, and he too folded his hands and rested his arms on his knees, bending forward a bit, not looking at Mr. Twist. _Here it comes, Bud._

Mr. Twist took a deep breath and let it out slowly before going on.

"Just doesn't seem to matter any more, does it? I mean, he's gone and never coming back. We all lost something that day. I know I didn't show it when you first came here, or even the other times you came back either, but… well… he was my son, only child. And now that his mother is… Well, it just doesn't matter any more."

Ennis continued to sit without moving, his eyes firmly fixed on the horizon. He wanted to scream out loud, at the top of lungs, _You're wrong, you asshole, it always matters, it did then and it does now. It matters to __me__. Jack matters to __me__, he always has and he always will._ But he didn't, he couldn't, so he pushed it down and placed it deep inside with all of his other thoughts and dreams about his Jack, as Jack's old man continued.

"Not making excuses for what I did, mind you, just the way it was back then. Now, well, don't see the reason for holding onto that any more." He shrugged his shoulders. He stood up and leaned against the post at the top of the steps for a few seconds, looking outward and nowhere in particular, then turned towards the front door. "I gotta check on Elaine. Think about it and let me know. No hurry."

Ennis didn't look back.

"I'll stay."

The retreating footsteps hesitated. "Thank you. And Ennis? Please, call me John." Then they continued on, the screen door banging shut behind them on yet another gust of the Autumn wind.

Ennis stayed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2**

May 1989

Ennis stayed. Overnight at first, then just until, as he put it, the next cycle of life started in the Spring.

During those months of late 1988 and early 1989 Ennis and John tiptoed around their relationship, looking for solid ground amongst the shifting sands of time, while working hard to whip the ranch into shape to survive the Winter. John had lived on the ranch his whole life, except for a stint in the Army in World War II, and knew every nook and cranny, every field and fence, every tree and bush. But Ennis knew ranching, and quickly, quietly proved his equal to the tasks at hand. More than once they came to loggerheads over just how to handle a situation, John clinging to the tried and true ways of more than 70 years on the same place, Ennis bringing new ideas formulated and tried over decades of working on different ranches in different areas under different bosses.

John took Ennis into town, introduced him at the feed store and the hardware, added him to the accounts there and at the local grocer. Took him to the bank, too, and to have Marty Ferguson add him to the ranch account, too. Ennis protested, John insisted, so they compromised and opened a new account instead, and John said he'd transfer funds into it as needed.

The first true test came two weeks after Ennis stayed. They had ridden the four corners of the ranch, looked over the pastures, studied the stock from head to hoof, crawled through every space in every building, checked all the stored hay and feed, inspected every piece of machinery and equipment, and created a long list of what needed to be done and in what order. Ennis wanted to start right away on all the buildings, what with Winter headed their way But John balked at spending all that money so quickly, what with all the expenses for Elaine, wanting to concentrate on the barn first and then the other buildings.

Things came to a full head of steam the following Thursday morning. John came back to the house for lunch, only to find a virtual battalion of men working on his house, the bunkhouse and the barn. Abe Weston informed him that Ennis had made all the arrangements and paid a substantial down-payment out of the new ranch account to get started right away, and told John how much he appreciated the business this time of year. John confronted Ennis as Ennis came out of the barn with two horses in tow.

"Thought we talked all about this. I don't like being beholden to anyone. And where'd you get all that money? Rob a bank? I didn't put that much into the account."

Ennis made John follow him to the middle of the corral behind the barn. After releasing the horses, he turned to John and told him things no other person knew.

"I put it there. The money came from Jack. Turned out he and Lureen always kept all their stuff separate, and he put it in his Will that Lureen got nothing, Bobby got some things and I got all of the rest. Made Lureen hopping mad, but when the lawyers pointed out it was her daddy that insisted on it when they got married, and she had signed the papers, and she had kept her stuff separate all those years, she huffed and puffed and finally gave in.

"Then there was the two insurance policies that LD made Jack take out through Newsome's. After LD died, Jack named me as beneficiary on both of 'em, and one of 'em had this clause that made the company pay double since he died in an… accident." Ennis spat out the last word. "All of it's just been settin' there in the bank in Laramie ever since. I don't have much to spend it on, just my girls, made sure they got an education like I wanted to have and a nice send-off when they got married."

"So you're sitting on…."

John could only whistle and blink at the amount, and never balked again at spending Ennis and Jack's money. After all, Jack had always talked about bringing Ennis up to build them a cabin and whip the place into shape, so he felt it was only right and proper to use Jack's money. And, though Ennis wouldn't admit it, deep down he knew it was his way of atoning to Jack for turning him away for twenty years, denying them the chance at a sweet life together, until they had no chance at all. So some of money was spent, while leaving a whole lot more than that to see them through the years to come.

They worked first on preserving the barn, stables and other structures, besides fixing all those things that had long been neglected or abandoned but necessary for an operating ranch. Miles of fencing were repaired or replaced, corrals restored, fields prepared for Spring and Summer plantings, livestock winnowed and sold and replaced with younger, equipment and tack repaired or updated. They fixed up and expanded the old bunkhouse into a snug three -bedroom place, complete with a large combination sitting room, dining room and kitchen, a full bathroom, and a master bedroom with its own bathroom complete with bathtub and separate shower. It wasn't their cabin, but it would do to Ennis' way of thinking.

Inside the main house, they closed off the dining room from the front entry, and by using the adjacent pantry turned the space into a proper private bedroom and bathroom for Elaine and John. When they finished, they kept on going in the front hall and sitting room, taking off wallpaper and painting every wall and laying new carpeting, then tackled the kitchen including new appliances and linoleum, and finally redid John and Elaine's old bedroom and the bathroom upstairs. They had the house rewired, made easier since all the wiring was in cast iron pipe as was the custom when the house was built, and a circuit breaker box replaced the old fuse box. A new forced-air furnace replaced the ancient gravity system that John's parents had put in before he was born, bringing warmth to every room in the house.

Outside the house, they replaced broken windows, scraped and painted the house, re-hung the shutters, repaired and re-shingled the roof, replaced the gutters and downspouts, and repaired the chimney.

The one room in the house that remained the same was Jack's bedroom. Except for buying a larger bed and painting the walls the same color as before, Ennis refused to change a thing. He hung up their shirts and the postcard facing his bed, so it was the last thing he saw at night and the first thing he saw in the morning. Sometimes he could almost feel Jack's eyes on him, or thought he saw him sitting in the chair by the window, looking out at the road leading away from the ranch. After his death, the Jack in his dreams was the man he knew last, but with blood streaming from his broken face. Then after a couple of years, he became the young man of 19 from their summer on the slopes of their Mountain, most times smiling with his hat pushed back, sometimes with blood on his face and shirt. But now, the Jack in his dreams and waking hours was the man of 39 same as the day he last saw him, no scars on his face, no blood covering the front of his shirt, just the man he fell in love with and lost on the side of a lonely road to nowhere.

John still spent as much time as he could with his wife. Ennis arranged to have a caregiver come every day, to bathe and dress Elaine, and to keep her company while John and Ennis tended to the everyday requirements of the Ranch, and to do the laundry and prepare lunch and dinner for them. John and Ennis cared for Elaine in the evenings, reading to her from new magazines and old favorite books, or just holding her hand as they watched a show on TV.

But this took a toll on all of them, physically and mentally.

After a month, Ennis and John hired a young couple to work full time and live in the renovated bunkhouse. Andy and Rita Collins moved in just after Thanksgiving, with their 6-year-old daughter Jessica, their four-year-old son Matthew, and their one-year-old son Nathan. Andy worked the ranch with John and Ennis, bringing youthful energy and new ideas. Matthew helped his dad some with the chores, but followed Ennis like an imprinted puppy, soaking up a lifetime of ranching. Rita took care of both houses, helped the caregiver, made their meals, and provided companionship to Elaine. Jessica helped Elaine with the garden, learning which plants were weeds and which were "keepers," and the best time and place to plant tomatoes and squash and peas and all sorts of good things. As often as possible, they all ate lunch together, sometimes dinner, too, forming another family. And when Gabrielle came along a few years later, they expanded the cabin, adding more living space, another bathroom and a fourth bedroom.

Elaine prospered from all the attention, especially that of John and Ennis. She regained some ability to speak, though the words came hard and not always intelligible, which frustrated her. With their help, she took her first steps and began to take her meals with them in the kitchen. One look between them that first dinner together, and the next day John and Ennis started planning and in the Spring built the ramp leading from the kitchen door to the back yard, and paved the path to the garden, installing rails alongside all of it for support and placing a bench under the tree she had planted on her wedding day. On warm summer days, Elaine would walk with help slowly and carefully to her beloved garden, and spend time tending to her plants as best she could.

Andy and Rita and their family stayed.

But below the surface the raw emotions still boiled between Ennis and John. They tore off the scab in early May 1989, on the anniversary of the last day Ennis saw Jack, the day they had ripped open twenty years of wounds and settled nothing.

John, Elaine and Ennis visited the Twist cemetery in the late afternoon, then came home for a light supper. Elaine went to bed soon after, while John and Ennis sat on the front porch passing a whiskey bottle between them and talking about Jack as the sun set over the rolling plains. Afterwards, neither of them could remember exactly what became the last straw. Maybe it was Ennis telling John he should never have pissed on young Jack, or laid a hand on Jack, or treated Jack the way he did, or told Jack constantly he was a disappointment as a son. Maybe it was John telling Ennis he should mind his own damn business, or his love for Jack was an abomination in the eyes of God according to the Bible, or he couldn't have really loved Jack if he always turned him away and then let him die alone 1,000 miles away. Maybe it was other things they shouted at each other. Maybe it was the whiskey bottle that John threw at Ennis, missing his head by inches and exploding against the post.

Whatever it was, they ended up in a drunken slugfest, rolling down the porch steps, grappling in the dust before the ghosts of the Twist ancestors and their personal demons and Jack. In the end, it really didn't matter at all. They knelt, bloody, shirts torn, exhausted in body and spirit, holding each other for support, crying on each other's shoulder over thrown-away chances and dreams that could never come true.

Ennis and John fought down the steps. Son and Dad walked up the steps together.

Ennis stayed beyond that first cycle of renewed life, through many more cycles of life, for 20 years, even after Mrs. Twist died, until Mr. Twist had breathed his last and his earthly remains were laid to rest next to those of his wife, his son and his ancestors in the small grieving plain near the road.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3**

August 1992

In time the ranch began to pay for itself, with some left over each year. John gradually left more and more decisions to Ennis, confirming them when asked but not requiring that he be asked. Ennis hired additional full-time seasonal help, and some of the local high-school kids eagerly grabbed the chance to make extra cash on weekends and during vacations. The folks in the area came to know Ennis as Jack's best friend, come to live with Jack's parents and help them in their time of need. Ennis settled into his new life, knowing that it was Jack and Jack's parents who had reached out to him in his time of need.

Nobody said anything directly, but Ennis heard the whispers, saw some suspicious looks. During those first months he would withdraw into himself when it happened, ride off by himself for the day, returning after dark. He visited Jack's grave, sitting on the stone bench, hat beside him, head bowed, asking Jack for strength, apologizing to him for 20 years of barely living, believing Jack was there with him. Occasionally he left for a few days, once in a while taking his camping gear and fishing pole. He always came back rested and restored in his determination to stay.

Those dark times came around fewer and farther between, until finally he learned to stare back, not to give an inch; it was nobody's business but his and Jack's and Jack's folks. And it helped knowing that Jack was there with him, in spirit.

With each passing day, Ennis felt closer to Jack. He felt his presence when visiting his grave, and riding fence, and pulling recalcitrant calves into this world, and untangling yearlings from the underbrush, and brushing down Twister, and mucking the stalls in the stables, and helping Elaine walk to her garden, and firing up the mower or the hay-baler from Newsome Farm Equipment, and doing a thousand other things. Good thing he liked working on the lonely one-person tasks, since anyone working with him would swear he was off his head, talking to a ghost.

Most of all, Ennis felt Jack at night, in their room. He could almost believe that the bed sagged when Jack sat on it, that they talked about many things but mostly about how much they missed touching each other, that Jack lay with him some nights.

Junior and her Jim and Fran and her Steve brought his grandkids to visit Ennis on occasion, filling the house and ranch with warmth and laughter, and calling John and Elaine their special set of grandparents since their father's parents had died so many years before they were born.

The year before Elaine died, Ennis wrote to Bobby and asked if Bobby would bring up Jack's ashes, Elaine wanted it and so did John and so did he. Bobby agreed readily. He knew now where his dad really belonged, and it wasn't next to L. D. Newsome in Childress Cemetery. And it was time for him to mend fences; some things just didn't matter any more, some things needed to be asked, some things needed to be said.

Over his mother's initial objections, Bobby brought up his father's ashes, and brought his family with him. He introduced his wife, Abby, and children, Elizabeth age 3 and John Charles Twist III, or Jack as he wanted to be called, age 8, to his grandparents and to his father's best friend. John and Ennis showed them around the ranch before they all joined Pastor Alan at Jack's grave to inter the urn now holding all of Jack's earthly remains. For a week after that, the kids had fun riding the horses and the tractor, swinging on the rope and tire swing Ennis fashioned for them beneath an elm tree out front, and exploring the endless acres of Wyoming ranchland. Ennis and Bobby had some long talks while on horseback riding fence, shed some tears, shared some hugs, and came away as friends.

Bobby and his family came back for visits occasionally, and Jack III, or Tres as Ennis called him being uncomfortable using the name of the man he loved, spent most of his summers there during high school and college, meeting his Uncle Hal and Aunt Millie and cousins on cousins, absorbing the realities of ranching, learning about his great-grandparents, learning about the namesake grandfather he never knew, learning about his grandfather's best friend whom he came to call Uncle Ennis, and along the way figuring out more than he was told about the relationship between his grandfather and Uncle Ennis but never saying anything since, after all, it wasn't any of his business and it really didn't matter to him.

And falling in love with Jessica Anne Collins.

For John's 80th birthday two years after Elaine's death, all of the kids and spouses and grandkids on all sides visited for a week at the same time, spilling over into a couple of big recreational vehicles rented for the week, the boys even using Jack and Ennis' old tent and camping gear. They set dinners outside on the front porch, now screened in. At one table John sat at one end, Ennis at the other, and everyone, including Andy and Rita and their kids mixed inbetween and around them. And Tony.

Early in the December three years after Ennis arrived, Anthony Michael Myerson, owner of the Rocking M, the nearest neighbor to the Twist Ranch, came over to meet Ennis and say hello to the Twists. Tony had heard around town about Jack's best friend Ennis staying at the ranch, and all the fixing-up going on, and the new family living there full-time, and he became curious about the man who had somehow gotten into the good graces of crotchety Old Man Twist. Tony grew up in Lightning Flat, went to high school there several years after Jack, and knew lots of stories about Old Man Twist and his wife, and the son who had left to rodeo and settled in Texas with a rich wife and had died in an accident some eight years before. Tony too had left the area when he graduated from high school, driven to Oregon, and found work on a ranch outside Portland while going to college at night. After six years he graduated but stayed there ranching, eventually going into partnership with a friend that lasted over fifteen years. He had sold out in Oregon and returned alone that Fall to take over his folks' place after his father died. His mother moved in with her sister in Laramie, and his mother, brother and sister signed over their shares to him.

When they shook hands and traded looks, Ennis and Tony both felt a connection, but neither acted on it for a spell. They saw each other around town, had breakfast at the diner occasionally, played pool and downed beers at the tavern. They helped each other at calving and branding, and Ennis drove the baler over to the Rocking M when Tony's gasped its last slug of diesel. Ennis found this one rise on the Twist Ranch where he could see Tony's house in the distance. At dusk, he saw the light from Tony's house as a welcoming golden spot on the dark plains.

In August 1992 their connection deepened. They sat on the sofa on the front porch of the Myerson place after dinner one night, sharing a bottle of Jack Daniels.

"Nice dinner, liked the steaks."

"Tri-tip, from my own beef, best when done slow on the barbeque. I like using charcoal, not a big fan of those gas ones they have nowadays."

"Yeah, always have liked the taste of a meal cooked over an open flame." Ennis settled back and stretched out his long legs.

"Done that much? Cook over an open flame?"

"Some. Did some camping over the years. Not as much recently." He swirled the whiskey and took a sip, hoping to change the subject. "Nice glasses. Where'd you say they're from?"

"Ireland, place called Waterford."

"Beats passing the bottle back and forth."

"Bet it does." Tony paused. "Though it probably doesn't beat camping out and passing the bottle around the campfire with Jack."

Ennis's heart flipped, mostly from the memories the words conjured up, but partly from the sadness in Tony's voice. He gripped the Waterford glass, then drained it for strength before looking Tony in the eyes as he responded. "No, it don't. At least it didn't, until now."

And Ennis finally spoke to another human being about Jack, and told what had happened that summer on the side of a Mountain twenty-six years before, and on that fateful last day in the shadow of the Mountain and later in a dusty parking lot in Signal, and for almost twenty years after that, and on a lonely road just over nine years ago that had taken it all away, and during the long empty years after that. Tony spoke for the first time about his own partner, and told what had happened in the back of a pickup truck off a logging road in Oregon after counting shooting stars one August Saturday night, and for over 15 years after that on their own ranch, and on a lonely road nearly two years ago when an eighteen-wheeler drifted over the double-yellow line taking it all away, and the long empty years after that.

Words of comfort, a hand on an arm, an arm around a shoulder, a thumb brushing way a tear, a soft kiss.

But Ennis pulled away, looking around, anywhere but at Tony. "Sorry," he muttered."

"For what?" Tony frowned slightly.

"Forgot where we were, out in the open, anyone coulda seen us."

"Oh. Well, not really. The hands have all gone home, and Steve and Mindy's place is over a hundred yards away on the other side of the house. No one around but us."

"Still, he coulda been coming around for something, coulda seen us, and then what? He'd tell someone else, and then the wrong people would find out, and then… then… wrong place, wrong time and you'd… I couldn't stand it, you getting' hurt or… or… dyin'… 'cause of me… 'cause of me… 'cause I… just like…" By then Ennis was almost incoherent, words rushing out, feelings rushing out from where they had been kept locked away for so many years. And to the first person since Jack, he told what his father forced on him in his youth, what remained imprinted on his heart and soul, the destroyed life that resulted from loving another man.

Tony's mind reeled from Ennis' words. He wanted to reach beyond the grave and throttle Ennis' father with his own bare hands, until his eyes bulged out and his tongue lay useless. Instead, he pulled Ennis into his arms, fighting all the way, until Ennis allowed himself to be held by another man for the first time since Jack died, trembling, afraid of so many things rushing through his mind. All the while Tony held him close and tried to calm him and reassure him, rocking slowly.

"_It's alright, Cowboy, it's alright, nothin's gonna happen, it's gonna be alright, you're alright, ain't gonna let nothin' or nobody hurt ya."_

"What… what'd you say?"

"I said it's okay, everything's going to be okay, you're going to be okay."

"No, No, what you said before that."

"That's all I said, same thing as I told you."

Then Ennis knew, it really was alright, everything was going to be okay. He relaxed into Tony's arms, and returned the warmth offered there.

Ennis stayed the night.

The morning after, Ennis stopped at the cemetery on his way home, to think things over. Sitting on the old stone bench, hat in hands, Ennis thought he could see Jack again, sitting on his grave, leaning against the headstone, black Resistol pushed back, knees up, forearms on his knees, hands together. One thing was different, he had shaved his moustache.

"Got something to tell you, Jack, not sure you're gonna like it."

"About Tony?"

"So… it _was_ you." Softly.

"Yeah." Just as softly.

"Did you…?"

"Nope. No way. That's private, between you and him, nobody's business but yours."

"How'd you know?"

"Through the grapevine. And I saw the two of you together last time you came to visit."

"Not sure what to say. I sure didn't expect it, not after you, and especially not now, not here." Ennis gestured around him with his hat.

"Knew him as a little kid, growed up to be a good man, a good person."

Silence surrounded him.

"You love him?"

"Guess maybe I do, a bit, but nothing like what you and I have, I'll always love you."

"I know that, always have known it, and you know the same goes for me, I'll always love you, Cowboy."

"What am I gonna do?"

"You're gonna grab and hold onto him best you can. You deserve to be happy, and if Tony makes you happy, then it's okay. But you gotta tell him."

"Tell him what?"

"Tell him what you just told me, and what you've already decided about where you're gonna be at the end. He deserves to know that. And you gotta tell the family, all of them, eventually. All the cards on the table."

Ennis pondered these thoughts before responding.

"Guess you're right. I'll tell Tony next time I see him, and think about how to tell everyone else." He paused. "Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"Well… just… just… thanks."

"You're welcome. Love ya, Cowboy."

"Love ya, too, Bud."

Ennis stood up and paused.

"Like you without the moustache, makes you look ten years younger."

"Thought you'd like it. Seemed the thing to do right now, you know?"

"Yeah, I know."

"Come back soon."

"You bet."

Ennis talked with Tony next day, and told John and Elaine right away. John didn't approve, but didn't disapprove either. He still didn't understand the whole concept, but did understand that Ennis had found someone to ease the pain and share the laughter. So he accepted the situation and welcomed Tony with a smile and a firm handshake each time he came over. Elaine just smiled and patted Ennis on the cheek, and said, "Good for the both of you."

Andy and Rita had figured it out on their own and approved. As Andy told Ennis, just because they had come from poor ranching stock and married at 18 didn't mean they knew nothing of the ways of the world. Andy shook his hand, and Rita hugged him, and they insisted on both of them coming over for dinner on Sunday.

When Tres turned 15, after his freshman year in high school, he began spending his summers at the Ranch. That year, his third full summer, was no exception. After talking with John and Elaine, and before Tony came for dinner on Sunday, Ennis took Tres on a long ride along the Montana fence line, and spoke of many things. Tres remained silent for a while after Ennis finished, but surprised both of them when he started talking. Wise beyond his years, he said he had already figured things out about Uncle Ennis and his grandfather, and wasn't going to say anything about it, but now that Uncle Ennis brought it up, he didn't see any reason not to say something, and then said he knew that Uncle Ennis and his grandfather had loved each other and now that his grandfather had passed on, he didn't see any reason why Uncle Ennis shouldn't grab and hold onto the happiness that he'd been fortunate to find a second time because not everybody had a second chance at happiness and love and Uncle Ennis deserved some happiness in his life. He and Uncle Ennis had a good cry when Uncle Ennis told him that his grandfather had said the very same thing. Tres never questioned how his Uncle Ennis knew it.

Everyone stayed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part 4**

April 1993

In the hard times of the early 90's Ennis took a deep breath, dipped into Jack's money, and bought four empty ranches on the East, Southeast and South for back taxes and a little extra, becoming the largest land holding in the County. But other than his attorney and accountant in Laramie, no one else knew.

Ranchers and townfolk alike wondered why the Laramie Ranch & Cattle Company had chosen to buy those particular ranches. Maybe the owners knew something they didn't, like maybe oil or gas or both lay underneath, or maybe they intended on strip-mining the coal underneath, or maybe gold or silver lay down below in a vein come all the way from the Black Hills to the East. Much to their disappointment, nothing exciting happened. The new owners signed a lease with the Twist Ranch, profit-sharing from ranching and farming on a large scale. It provided jobs, and jobs meant money to spend at the local stores, and that meant a rise in the ways of living for everyone. So folks stopped wondering and instead enjoyed the stability and economic uplift from the combined operations.

It also meant bringing the business of ranching into the late Twentieth Century. Ennis never did get the full hang of operating a computer, but he did learn how to write a letter, and how to keep track of the stock on a special program, and how to navigate the "web", as Tres called it. Ennis and Tres spent hours on end some nights, checking on everything and anything, "surfing", until their eyes glazed over and they stumbled off to bed.

The Twist Ranch and the Rocking M put up cell towers on the highest points of land, too, so they all could use the Motorola cellphones they had installed in their trucks. Between the new phones and the old cb's, they could stay in touch wherever they went.

John just shook his head, mumbled about new fangled toys never replacing old-fashioned good sense, and went about mending fences, feeding the livestock, and enjoying his ever growing family.

During this time, Ennis and Tony continued to nurture their relationship. They shared holidays with family, helped at round-ups, and went to auctions together. They spent nights together as often as they could without raising suspicions among the hands and neighbors. For Ennis, some old habits and fears never really died.

Through it all they were respectful of the needs and responsibilities of each of them, and careful not to raise any eyebrows, or so they thought.

In early April Ennis walked up to the counter at Springfield's Feed, Fertilizer & Farm Supply, nodded at three or four guys in the store as he passed them, and asked Dan Junior about his order for seed. Junior and Ennis were about the same age, but people called him Junior since his father still owned and ran the feed store. Junior looked him up and down, before replying.

"Didn't get anythin' in with your name on it."

Ennis frowned. "Placed that order months ago, and need it this week."

"Well, lemme check. Nope, nothin' in the order book. Guess you're outta luck."

"Outta luck? Can't be, Almanac says it's time to plant, and I need that seed. Damn. What else you got I can use?"

"Nothin'."

"Nothin'?"

"You heard me, nothin'."

"What about what's on the shelf down there?" Ennis' pulse increased, and the palms of his hands started to sweat. But he also felt like someone or something held his hand, which strengthened him.

"Nope, can't have that."

"How come?" Ennis knew before Junior said it. Even mentally braced, it was hard hearing it.

"Don't have anything here for your kind." A couple of the guys snickered, the others just watched and waited.

"My kind? What d'ya you mean, 'my kind', Junior?" Ennis growled out.

"You know what I mean."

"Maybe I do and maybe I don't. Why don't you tell me. Or are you afraid to say it to my face?" Ennis clenched and unclenched his fists.

Suddenly Junior wasn't so confident, but he didn't back down. "Okay, I'll say it, everyone knows. Different, queer, you and that Myerson trash, probably that no-good Twist kid…"

Next thing Junior knew, he lay on his back at Ennis' feet, head spinning and six inches off the concrete floor, having been pulled over the counter by the ruff of his shirt and decked by an enraged Ennis, then yanked upwards. He stared with big eyes at a snarling face leaning over him.

"Don't you ever talked that way about Tony or Jack, ya hear me, ya little pissant!"

No none moved. No one snickered.

"What the hell's going on out here?"

Ennis dropped Junior unceremoniously on the floor, and turned to Dan Springfield. "You hear what your boy said, what he called me?"

Dan looked down and around, searching for an answer. Phil Wilson spoke up. "Junior called Ennis and Tony and Jack queers."

Dan and Ennis both looked down at Junior. "That right, boy?"

Junior pushed up on one elbow, used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the blood drooling out of the corner of his mouth. Ennis shuddered at the motion. "Yeah, that's right."

Dan and Ennis locked eyes. Finally Ennis asked, "He speak for you, too?"

"He's my son, works here," Dan replied.

Ennis pondered that statement, then spoke firmly. "Best settle up our account. How much the Twist Ranch owe you?"

Dan walked around back of the counter, checked the computer, and gave Ennis the amount. Ennis slowly wrote out a check for the full amount, and handed it to Dan. "I want a receipt that says paid in full," Ennis stated flatly.

Dan wrote it out and handed it to him.

"Now, how much does Laramie owe you? Wanta settle up that account too." After doing the same, Ennis stepped back, making Junior scramble out of the way of his bootsteps. "You can close those accounts, we won't be using 'em again."

"Not without John's okay, it's his place, not yours."

"Damn right," came a voice from behind Ennis, "my place, and Ennis here is my foreman, and what my foreman says, goes, ya understand that, Daniel?" John Twist had heard the commotion from the truck, and witnessed the exchange between Ennis and Dan, and what Phil said. "Won't be buyin' nothin' from your place ever again. Been friends since me we were kids, guess I never really knew ya." He looked at the others. "Wonder if I know any of ya. C'mon, son, let's get outta here, stench makes me sick."

Phil Wilson spoke up, first to Ennis then to Dan. "He don't speak for me. I'll be doin' the same, Dan. How much I owe ya?"

Word spread around like the lighting that gave the town its name. Friends and neighbors took sides and, when the storm had passed, Ennis looked around in wonder. The sky didn't fall, tire irons remained secured next to the spare tires, neighbors still helped neighbors during round-ups and calving, he and Tony still had breakfast occasionally at the diner and shared some beers and games of pool with folks at the tavern. Other than a few whispers and looks, which he had already learned to live with, life settled back into the rhythm of Nature's cycles of life. Springfield's Feed, Fertilizer & Farm Supply slowly withered until Dan sold out to a family from Gillette looking to expand, and his whole family moved out of state.

Over the ensuing years Ennis and Tony started to travel together. Once Ennis finally found the handle on the coffeepot, he decided maybe it was time to check out some other places. Ennis showed Tony many beautiful campsites in the mountain ranges of Wyoming, with lakes and streams to swim and fish in. Tony took Ennis to see the ocean pounding relentlessly against the shoreline of Oregon, and Crater Lake, and the best fishing spots just outside of Bend. They ventured into Colorado, Montana and parts of Canada, and once flew all the way to Chicago to visit Fran and her family for Thanksgiving. But never Texas, never Mexico, never Brokeback Mountain.

Jack seemed to keep his distance during those years with Tony, appearing infrequently, but always there when Ennis needed him most.

Jack stayed, in the corners of his mind.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part 5**

July 1994

Elaine Marie Twist, nee Sullivan, daughter of Frank and Eleanor Sullivan, wife of John Charles Twist, Sr., mother of John Charles Twist, Jr., Deceased, grandmother of one, great-grandmother of three, died on a sunny summer afternoon in July 1994, while sitting on her favorite bench under her spreading elm tree in her garden, a basket of snap peas on her lap, listening to the chattering of the birds and the squirrels and Jessica. She simply smiled, sighed, and was gone.

John, Ennis, Bobby, Tres, Matthew, and Andy acted as the pallbearers. They laid Elaine to rest in the grieving plain, next to her son. Most of the family was there, including Abby, Junior and Jim, Fran and Steve, Andy and Rita, Uncle Hal and Millie and their children, and more than a dozen grandchildren and great-grandchildren from all sides of her special family. Those that couldn't make it sent cards and flowers, had meals delivered, and made phone calls promising to visit. But all too soon the fuss died down and the visitors returned to their own homes and interrupted lives.

After the burial, Ennis found himself alone again sitting on the stone bench facing the graves of those he held dear to his heart, hat on the bench beside him. His hair still held the gold from his youth, though the streaks of silver threatened to overtake the gold.

At 50 he had reached another crossroad in his life, and looked for answers in the flowers covering the mound of fresh earth and the grasses softening the rigid granite headstones. A very familiar voice pulled his eyes to the headstone directly in front of him.

"Hey, Cowboy."

"Hey, yourself, Bud."

"Thanks for staying and taking care of my Mom all them years. She says so, too, made a big diff'rence to her having you there."

"Made a big diff'rence for me, too, knowing her. She told me some things about when you were a kid, good things, and bad. Wish I coulda … wish…"

"If wishes were horses even beggars would ride, least that's what Momma always told me when I'd start wishing on something."

"Never heard that before. Lots of truth to it. This beggar sure wishes he could be riding right now."

"Oh?" Jack arched an eyebrow suggestively.

Ennis blushed. "Hush now, Twist, your Momma ain't even a day in her grave right next to you."

"She's gone home, we're alone."

"Yeah, alone."

"Cowboy?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not alone, never have been. You'll always have me, and now you have Tony, not to mention all them grandkids."

"We do have a crowd, don't we." That put a smile on his face.

"So, what're your plans? Moving on?"

"Not sure, was hoping to find some answers here."

"Nope, not today. This one you'll have to decide on your own. But whatever you decide, you know I'll always be with you."

Ennis closed his eyes and wished to himself, _If only._ When he opened his eyes, he was alone.

A week after the funeral, John and Ennis once again sat on the front porch, smoking, passing a whiskey bottle between them and talking about Jack and Elaine as the sun set over the rolling plains. Once again, the ghosts surrounded them, but his time they laughed and smiled as the living remembered the good times. After a while, John turned the conversation from the past to the present and the future.

"Ennis, son, I gotta thank you for staying all these years. Meant the world to Elaine and me to have you here, like a part of Jack lived with us again. You've done wonders with the place, brought it up better than I ever remember it. Jack would be mighty proud of you…" He paused. "I know I am."

Mr. Twist cleared his throat, dropped his cigarette on a step, and crushed it with the sole of his boot.

"I also know you stayed to help Elaine more than me, so I'll understand if you decide it's time to leave now that she's passed. But, far as I'm concerned this, place is as much yours as mine now, and if you're not in a rush to get anywhere, I'd be mighty glad if you stayed on." He folded his hands and rested his arms on his knees, bending forward a bit, not looking at Ennis.

Ennis just looked out over the land, not responding yet.

"Told you a long time ago that some things just didn't matter any more, about Jack and… you… I… I… um… I want to apologize for saying it like I did. All of it matters, every bit of it, especially Jack, always did and still does. Made us who we are. I was going through a bad time, with Elaine and all, thinking on how we'd probably end up living with Hal and Millie, like poor relations. Then you showed up, outta the blue. Talking with you that night, well, it made me realize I was still holding onto things I shouldn't, blaming you and Jack for things I couldn't fix and could hardly stand. I was wrong doing that, and wrong saying it the way I did. Didn't mean to hurt you."

John stopped, and pulled out a blue print kerchief from the rear pocket of his jeans. After wiping his eyes and blowing his nose, he continued quietly, as if talking to everyone and no one. Ennis continued to look towards the horizon.

"I'm an old man, Ennis. Buried my parents, my little sister, my son, and now my wife. Miss my boy something terrible nowadays. But thanks to you I have my grandson and my great-grandchildren, and for that I'll be forever grateful. So, like I said, I'd like you to stay, but I'll understand if you don't."

John stood up and leaned against the post at the top of the steps for a few seconds, looking inward, outward and nowhere in particular, then turned towards the front door. "Think about it and let me know. No hurry."

Ennis didn't look back this time, either.

"I'll stay."

The retreating footsteps hesitated, came back, and a hand briefly rested on Ennis' shoulder. "Thank you, son, thank you," murmured John. Then the footsteps continued on into the house, the screen door closing quietly behind them.

Ennis turned his head slightly, and saw Jack sitting next to him on the porch, no hat, smiling. "Thanks, Cowboy," was all he said. Ennis nodded in return They didn't have to say more.

Ennis stayed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Part 6**

June 2006

John C. Twist III and Jessica Marilyn Collins announced their engagement at the family Christmas party in December 2005, to the delight of everyone. Three weeks after he graduated from the University of Wyoming the following June, they married in the garden of the Ranch, standing under the tree Elaine had planted on her wedding day. After the ceremony, they planted a tree of their own not too far away.

Lureen and her husband attended the wedding of her only grandson. She had to witness the ceremony, but if truth be told, she really had to meet the man who had meant more to Jack than she did. The introductions went cordially and well, both acting as adults, both sizing up the other, both realizing their common though opposite bond. They parted on friendly terms, though not as friends.

When Uncle Ennis, with Tony, John and Andy standing next to him, asked Tres and Jessica about their plans for the future, Tres spoke right up, with Jessica standing next to him, firmly holding his hand.

"We plan on staying here and running the place with you and Dad, I mean Jessica's dad, no offense Pop."

"None taken, son," replied Bobby, he and Abby already knowing about their decisions and approving of them.

"I'd like to be the seventh generation of Twists to ranch here. That is if you and Great-Grandpa don't mind, Uncle Ennis."

"Hummm. What do you say, Dad, you think you'd mind having these two around here under-foot full time?"

"Well, Son," replied John to Ennis, seeming to mull it over but in reality trying not to let all of his emotions show, "I wouldn't mind that at all, think that would be mighty fine."

"Then it's a deal." And they all shook hands and drank a toast to the newly weds and the new generation of ranchers.

That evening, after most of the festivities had wound down, Ennis rode over to the cemetery to visit his Jack, and tell him all about the wedding and the big news. Jack, still looking the same as he did in 1992, was delighted with his grandson's wedding and decision to stay on the Ranch, having not heard about it "through the grapevine."

By May of the following year, the old house had doubled in size. Downstairs, they returned the dining room to its original purpose, and expanded the kitchen by adding on a family room to it, and built a new, larger bedroom and bathroom for John with all the extras needed to make him comfortable and safe. Upstairs above the other new rooms, they added two more bedrooms including a master suite for Tres and Jessica, and enlarged the original bathroom. They added a second staircase leading from upstairs to the family room, next to the kitchen door. Outside they wrapped the porch around most of the house, and installed screens, ceiling fans and comfortable furniture.

And none too soon. On May 12, 2007, Julia Elaine Twist made her first appearance in this world.

The one room inside that remained the same was Jack's bedroom. Ennis refused to change a thing. The one area outside that remained the same was Elaine's garden. Jessica refused to change a thing.

Tres and Jessica stayed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Part 7**

September 2008

Two weeks shy of his 92nd birthday, John Charles Twist, Sr., son of Albert and June Twist, husband of Elaine Marie Twist, Deceased, father of John Charles Twist, Jr., grandfather of one, great-grandfather of three, great-great-grandfather of one, never woke up from his afternoon nap in his favorite big chair on the screened-in front porch of the Twist Ranch. Ennis, Bobby, Tres, Matthew, Andy, and Tony acted as the pallbearers. They laid John to rest in the grieving plain, with his wife between him and his son, in death as in life. Most of the family was there, including Junior and Jim, Fran and Steve, Andy and Rita, Uncle Hal without Millie who herself had died a few years back, and more than a dozen grandchildren and great-grandchildren and his only great-grandchild. Those that couldn't make it sent cards and flowers, had meals delivered, and made phone calls promising to visit. But all too soon the fuss died down and the visitors returned to their own homes and interrupted lives and the Ranch returned to a semblance of normalcy.

Before they left, Ennis called Bobby, Junior, Fran, Andy and their spouses, and Tres and Jessica into the living room at the main house, and laid the cards on the table like Jack had said he should years ago. He explained how the Laramie Ranch & Cattle Company had a single owner, and they were looking at him, and if they looked at each other, they would see the future owners of the Company, and passed around the paperwork that showed what would happen to the ownership both before and when he died. He then explained to the stunned group where the seed money had come from, but left out the part about having more than that still put away, and asked them not to say anything to anyone else for the time being, including their own children, it being just their business and nobody else's.

The stares gave way to grins which gave way to tears which gave way to hugs which gave way to everyone talking to everyone else at once, which allowed Ennis to slip out of the room and escape to the stables and his waiting saddled horse.

Ennis found himself sitting again on the stone bench facing the graves of those he held dear to his heart, hat on the bench beside him. His thinning hair still held the shimmer of gold from his youth, but now the streaks of silver far outnumbered the gold.

Just shy of his 65th birthday he had reached another crossroad in his life, and looked for answers in the flowers covering the mound of fresh earth and the grasses softening the rigid granite headstones. A very familiar voice once again pulled his eyes to the headstone directly in front of him.

"Hey, Cowboy."

"Hey, yourself, Bud."

"Thanks for staying and taking care of my Dad all them years. He said so, too, made a big diff'rence to him."

"Well, you're both welcome, wasn't nothing, really, after the first 10 years or so. Got along real well after he stopped grousin' and let me run the place."

"A miracle in itself."

"What? Your dad not grousing?"

"You running the place."

"Watch it, Twist."

"Or what?"

Ennis had no response to that, since there was no "or what", ever again.

"You know, you don't have ta stay on no more, Mom's passed, Dad's passed, the place is in good hands with Andy and Rita and my grandson and Jessica. You need to take some time for yourself. Time for yourself and Tony to be together."

"Know that, just…"

"Just what?"

"Would feel, don't know… funny, diff'rent, not being there all of the time, not sleeping in your room, like I wasn't … you know… just doesn't seem right."

"Ennis, look at me. I'm not really here, you know that, dontcha?"

Ennis stared at Jack, before dropping his eyes to the ground and barely nodding his head.

"We may be havin' some interestin' conversations these past years, but I ain't here, you're really talkin' to yourself, you understand that, dontcha?"

Ennis again barely nodded, refusing to look at Jack.

"Ennis, look at me."

Ennis did.

"My life's over, been over for a long time. I'm not going anywhere, just sticking around, waiting 'til we can be t'gether again, this time with no reins at all, ever. But you're still with the living, and so's Tony, you're both young…"

"Ain't so young at 65," Ennis snorted.

"Bullshit, and you know it. You got prob'ly twenty or thirty good years left in you, maybe more. We both know Tony or you could go at any time," which made both of them shudder, "so you gotta really live those years, li'l darling, no more excuses. Tony's been asking you for a long time to move over to his place, now's the time."

Ennis sat in silence, thinking of what Jack said. Tony and he had traveled a lot, stayed overnight in Tony's big bed more times than he could or wanted to count, had spent lots of time together but never all their time together. Jack was right; time to commit like he hadn't with Jack, no more excuses. And time to let Tres and Jessica have a place of their own, alone, without old Uncle Ennis underfoot all the time. If Tony would have him, he would move to the Rocking M full time. Who was he kidding? Tony would be over in a flash with his horse trailer, emptying drawers into suitcases and boxes, putting saddles and tack into the back of his pickup, loading his horses into the trailer, before Ennis could even hang up the phone or change his mind. What the hell. Tony was at the house; he would ask him tonight.

"There," Jack said, "not so hard, huh?"

"You a mind reader now? It's still hard, still don't have you, still not with you. But Tony'n me, we're both second time around, we know how to love each other and not be jealous of the big piece of our heart that still belongs to the fella that came before."

"Nice to hear you say that."

"Mean it, every word of it."

"Well, shit, Enn, you sure to know how to get to me."

"Wish I could get to you, but know I gotta wait."

"I'll be here, like I said. Now, 'nough a that stuff, what you need to do is sit down with Tony and make a list of what you want to do."

"You mean, like having sex on the sofa during half-time of the Super Bowl?"

Both of Jack's eyebrows went up. "That too, that too. But I meant things like seeing Old Faithful in Yellowstone Park, or standing on the top a the Empire State Building in New York City, or dancing together under the stars, or taking your grandkids camping one at a time, or teaching them to play chess or cribbage, or babysitting the babies once a month so my grandson and his bride can have some time off while the two of you spoil them kids rotten, you know, stuff like that."

"Sounds like you been reading Ladies Home Journal."

"Nah, just the advice column in Cowboys And Indians."

Ennis just had to laugh, and when he stopped and looked up, he was alone, though he heard the echoes of someone else's laughter in the deepening twilight.

Ennis was right about Tony. He hugged Ennis so hard, Ennis though he'd pass out from lack of breath. Junior and Bobby told him it was about time. Within 24 hours, Ennis and Tony had cleared his things out of Jack's room [as Ennis still thought of it], and settled into the master bedroom at the Rocking M with Tony, neighbors be damned. Andy and Tres and Matthew helped carry boxes, load the trucks, unload the trucks, carry boxes again, deliver saddles and tack to the stables, settle horses into their new stalls.

After dinner that night, Jessica found her new husband sitting on the bed in Jack's room, looking at the empty closet and missing personal items. She sat beside him, and held his hand.

"You okay, honey?"

"Sort of. Miss him already, Great-Grandpa too. Hard to take, losing both in just a week's time."

In the months after John's death, Ennis, Bobby, Tres and Andy had long talks with all sorts of people, resulting in them placing an agricultural conservation easement over all their lands. Now it would remain as it should, for generations to come, a working ranch and farmland with miles of open spaces to ride across and enjoy.

They could all stay.


	8. Chapter 8

**Part 8**

October 23, 2029

Ennis sat on the grassy rise overlooking Tony's place, his horse nearby, reins trailing, grazing on prairie grass.

At 86 years old he still struck a handsome figure. Strong wiry frame, long caliper legs slightly bowed, silver hair streaked with the memory of deep gold, upright in the saddle when he rode, which wasn't often enough on doctor's orders after his last spill. He put in several hours working each day but, lacking the stamina of his youth and surrendering grudgingly to arthritis, sidestepped the hard work, letting the strong younger backs of Andy, Tres, Matthew and the next generation shoulder the heavy loads and lead the way.

Ennis wasn't always comfortable in the role of "elder rancher statesman", but if he had learned anything living off the land since he was born, it was to step aside graciously when he was outnumbered. And now he was greatly outnumbered.

Thanks to Junior, Fran, Bobby, and Andy and Rita, he had more grandchildren and great-grandchildren, even two great-great grandchildren, than he could shake a stick at. Didn't matter whether his blood flowed through their veins, to all of them he was Poppa who always had a nickel in his pocket for each of them, taught them how to ride and shoot a rifle, told tall tales of sheep-herding and skinny-dipping in cold streams up on the side of a tall mountain with Grandpa Jack, played gin rummy and cribbage with them, tucked them in at night and warned them not to let the Zimperumpazoos bite, came to baptisms, Christmas pageants, graduations, and weddings, and never ever forgot a birthday. Even Andy, Fran and most of that generation now called him Poppa, but Tres always called him Uncle Ennis.

He'd also been to more family funerals than any man his age should. Elaine. John. Fran's daughter Carrie, who died when an IED tore through the Hummer she was driving on patrol in Afghanistan. Emma's first born, who died in childbirth. He'd outlived his sister, brother, and Alma. He'd grieved long and hard when Junior died from ovarian cancer; a father wasn't supposed to outlive his child. Tony had pulled him through that awful time.

But he'd outlived Tony, too, by four years, swept away by pneumonia at 74. One day he was fine, next day he had some sniffles and a cough and stayed in bed, two weeks later he lay dead in a hospital room with tubes coming out of him. Ennis buried him in Oregon, next to his first partner just as they had discussed and agreed years before. Tony left the ranch to Ennis, over the objections of his brother and nephews. When the title had transferred to him, Ennis put an agricultural conservation easement over the Rocking M, so it too would remain as it was for generations to come.

Tres had pulled him through the months of sorrow after Tony's death. When the estate settled, Ennis moved back to the Twist Ranch, into the downstairs bedroom suite they had added on for John so many years before. John Ennis Twist, who was Tres and Jessica's youngest, occupied his great-grandfather's room now when he was home from college, and had already announced his plans to become the next generation of Twists to run the Ranch. He swore his room was haunted by a young cowboy in jeans, a blue shirt and black hat with dark hair, deep blue eyes and a killer smile. His Poppa just smiled, and showed him a picture of his great-grandfather when he was 19, and shared the incident with Jack that night in his room.

After Tony's death, Jack had returned more often. Once again, Ennis felt Jack at night, in their room. He could almost believe that the bed sagged when Jack sat on it, that they talked about many things but mostly about how much they missed touching each other, that Jack lay with him some nights.

Ennis had long ago set up a trust to handle his estate. Jack's insurance money had provided security to three generations, and now a fourth. It decreased to tide them over in hard times, and built back up in good times. Of course, the natural gas deposits found on one of the Laramie-owned ranches also contributed to the financial stability of the family. Combined, they allowed the Twist Ranch to remain debt-free with a positive cash-flow, even after adding two more ranches. And every grandchild and great-grandchild who wanted to go to college, did go, but had to pay back the trust over time with interest so their own children would have that same opportunity.

Tim, Fran's second boy, skipped college to rodeo. Now he lived on one of their outlying ranches with his partner, Frank, and their two kids. They raised prize-winning bulls, sought after on the rodeo circuit. Tim ran things from his wheelchair, having lost the use of his legs to an ornery bull in the national finals in Las Vegas ten years before. That's when the true nature of his and Frank's relationship played out on national television and in front of the rodeo crowd, as Frank rushed into the arena to hold him until the paramedics gently pried open his arms. Times had changed, but some people didn't change with the times. So the family provided a place where they could live their lives doing what they loved with the ones they loved.

Junior's daughter Mary Louise and her husband Scott now ran the Rocking M. After Tony's death, they approached Ennis with a business proposition. They wanted to turn the Rocking M into a working dude ranch, renting cabins and rooms to visitors, and offering trail rides, chuckwagon dinners, campfires with stories of the old times, overnights under the stars, and other ranching experiences. They presented a business plan, which Ennis and the accountants and attorneys reviewed with them, and shook hands on the deal. Mary Louise and Scott worked hard, and it paid off well for everyone. They didn't know it, but they would become the owners of the Rocking M on his death.

Andy's son Matthew and his wife Mary used the knowledge he absorbed at Ennis' side decades ago to take over another of the outlying ranches. Combining their land and some land leased from the government, they raised bison and sold the meat to specialty restaurants and meat markets. Hardly a month went by without visitors from somewhere around the country stopping by and asking questions and taking pictures.

To celebrate his 85th birthday the previous year, Fran and Steve and Jim without Junior, and all of his grandkids and great-grandkids and great-great-grandkids and their spouses, and Bobby and Abby and all of theirs, visited at the same time, some staying with cousins at their outlying ranches, others creating a make-shift campground around the lake with recreational vehicles and tents. They set dinners on long tables outside on the lawn, followed by sitting around roaring campfires making smores and singing songs from years and centuries past. They had a photographer take a shot of everyone, including Andy and Rita and their gang, with Ennis sitting proudly in the middle of the front row. An empty chair next to him with a black Resistol and a white Stetson on the seat reminded the viewer of two special persons who couldn't be there.

All in all, it had been a sweet life since he'd decided to stay at the Ranch, with one very major exception. But that was something he never could fix, though it still hurt so much at times he could hardly stand it.

A chill swept up the hill on a gentle Fall breeze. Ennis buttoned up the front and turned up the sheepskin collar of his tan Carhartt jacket that Jessica had insisted he wear, glad now he had stepped aside on that one, too. Nearly noon, the sun made him squint a bit.

He felt all of his 86 years right then, each sprain, strain and broken bone from a life of ranching. He hadn't slept well the night before; Jack had visited and just wouldn't stop talking for some reason. He'd finally told Jack to just shut up, and got some sleep. He had dreamed a good dream, a happy dream, him and Jack, two gray-haired cowboys riding side by side holding hands, then passing a bottle by the light of a fading campfire and sharing a bedroll under starry Wyoming skies.

Yawning, Ennis laid back, took off his glasses and put them in his coat pocket, pulled his tan Stetson over his eyes, folded his hands over his flat stomach, crossed his ankles, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.

A gentle hand rested on Ennis' shoulder, and a voice called his name. He wanted to sleep some more, just a few minutes more, but the hand remained. _Dammit, Jack, the sheep'll take care of themselves for an hour._

"Ennis?" The voice wouldn't go away, and the hand shook his shoulder.

"Ennis? Cowboy?"

"Yeah?" He brushed back his hat, looked up, saw two horses standing next to him. Twister and Sunshine. But Twister and Sunshine had passed on years ago. Confused, he sat up, facing the horses, wondering. The mount he had ridden up to the rise grazed nearby, ignoring the others. And then the hand nudged his shoulder again. Frowning, he turned and a face came into focus. He rubbed one arm across his eyes, and looked again, and the face was still there, clear as day. Jack. Jack as he was the last time they had met in 1983, but without the moustache. Jack reaching a hand down to him, offering to help him up. But Jack couldn't really do that, Jack was dead, dead for 46 years. Then how could he…?

Without thinking more, Ennis grasped the hand of the man he'd loved nearly his entire life, and was pulled up into a warm embrace. He savored the smell of Jack, ran his fingers of one hand through the hair on the back of his head, felt Jack's hands run up and down his back. And like that time on the dimly lit landing outside of a second floor walk-up apartment over a Laundromat in Riverton, they kissed, eagerly, warmly, lovingly. But Jack couldn't really do that, Jack was dead, dead for 46 years. Then how could he…?

And it came back to him in a rush. He had ridden up here, and stopped to think about Jack, and Tony, and his families, and his past and his future, and had lain down and fallen asleep.

Ennis looked down, and saw himself still lying in the grass, hat pulled over his eyes. But he wasn't there any more, he was here, wherever that was, holding Jack.

"How long…?"

"Just a few minutes ago in old time." Jack grasped his hand. "Ready, Cowboy?"

"You bet, Bud, been ready for 46 years."

After mounting their horses and gazing once again at Ennis' earthly form, they rode west towards a distant mountain, side by side, sometimes holding hands, sometimes bumping legs, always grinning from ear to ear. Until a bright light gently engulfed them, and they vanished.

Ennis didn't return for lunch, and daylight waned towards sunset. Tres became worried, but knew where he would find his Uncle Ennis. When he did, he knelt down and sat back on his heels on the Wyoming soil, head bowed, hat in hand, for a very long time.

Family and folks came from near and far to honor Ennis James Del Mar, father, grandfather, uncle, friend, rancher. Bobby, Tres, John Ennis, Tom, Michael, and Andy acted as the pallbearers. They buried him next to Jack, so close they were touching. Above their graves, Tres and Fran placed a new double headstone, just as Ennis had instructed and they had promised. Across the top ran the outline of a certain Wyoming mountain range with a certain Mountain just outside Signal, and underneath was carved:

John Charles Twist, Jr. Ennis James Del Mar

* * *

_His Bud His Cowboy_

_No Reins On This_

Jack and Ennis stayed, together, forever.

_The End_

And still, of a summer's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees

And the moon is a ghostly galleon pushed on by following seas,

When the stream is a ribbon of moonlight across the valley floor,

A cowboy comes riding,

Riding, riding,

A cowboy comes riding, up to Allotment Four.

Through the brush he clatters and clangs into the fire-lit site.

He swings from the saddle, calls out a name, but hears only the sounds of the night.

He opens the flap of the pup tent, and who should be waiting there?

But Jack, his life, his other,

Jack, his blue-eyed lover,

That smile untying his heart's knots, his Jack, with raven hair.

[With a nod to _The Highwayman_ by Alfred Noyes]


End file.
